Visits
by ascetor
Summary: "Have you ever wondered if we could possibly be friends?" /Have a glimpse of the times they visited each other, whether in the Hogwarts Infirmary or St Mungos.


_second year._

"Granger?" Draco Malfoy's whisper carried through the silent Infirmary. He looked around to make sure no one was around before he slipped into the room. He had heard rumours claiming that Hermione Granger was petrified by whatever was in the Chamber and wanted to see if it was true or not. "Granger!" he repeated, this time louder.

Draco scowled in annoyance and crossed his arm in front of his chest. _Why in the world can't she—oh, she's petrified_, he realised. He sniffed and lifted his chin higher before going around to investigate the beds with curtains surrounding them.

It was the last bed. Hermione Granger laid in the last bed, petrified.

He looked around before slipping in.

"Ganger?" He questioned and prodded her arm. "Wow, you really are petrified."

He prodded her several times more and smirked. "Well, well, well, you _are_ petrified."

Again, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and his smirk widened. "I'm guessing Pothead and Weasel went too far with their prank, eh? Getting their best friend petrified is probably no their smartest idea."

Silence met his remark. He reached his fingers forward to touch hers, hoping that he'll at least get some reaction in return. Nothing. Sighing, he dropped his hand to the side and sat on the bed, muttering to himself.

"Stupid Mudblood, getting involve with all this. Is she trying to get herself killed?" Draco sneered down at his fingers. His head snapped up upon a noise in the corridor just outside of the Infirmary. Eyes wide, he turned to the stiff body, as if she would tell him what to do. Remembering his wand, he casted a Disillusionment Charm on himself and looked at Hermione Granger.

For a moment, he wondered if she could hear him and hear some heartily concerns in his words. He shook his head and rid the questions away before he sneaked back out.

* * *

><p><em>Third Year<em>

"Hagrid! He needs to go to Madam Pomphrey, immediately!" Hermione shouted as she hurried forward. _Stupid dim-witted, arse!_ Hermione snarled.

She followed closely behind Hagrid's large form as he carried Malfoy to the Infirmary. Nervously, she played with her fingers, hoping that Malfoy was all right.

That night, she borrowed Harry's cloak, giving them an excuse as staying in the library till early morning. It's a wonder that they didn't pull the Marauder's map out, at least, she hoped they didn't.

She went to see Malfoy.

He was asleep when she arrived. Quietly, she walked to the chair next to his bed and sat herself down. She winced when it creaked. He stirred, but that was it.

Hermione found herself staring at his face. He was unquestionably handsome. If only his character was better… She remembered what happened in second year. She hadn't the bravery to say anything about it to him- such a Gryffindor. So, Hermione thought this would be the best solution to 'pay him back'. Accompanying him for a short while.

Of course, it was a stupid idea, which she had ridiculed herself over, but it was the only one she was able to do without feeling embarrassed. Silently, she removed the cloak after she was sure that no one was around, and leaned forward. She reached her hands forward to the strands of hair that's fallen onto his closed lids and pushed it back.

For a moment, she thought that maybe, they could've been friends- they're so much alike. Easily provoked, proud (though she did get rid of that after first year) and studious, to list a few. However, he was more preserved than her.

"You brainless arse," she whispered furiously, "Just because Harry could do it doesn't mean you could too! You should listen to professors often, it'll save your life!"

Attentively, she brushed her hair back and leaned down to kiss his forehead. He probably only had Parkinson, Goyle and Crabbe visiting him.

Sometimes, she really did pity him. They're not even counted as acquaintances. From what she heard, they were just around because his father wanted people to keep an eye on him.

He stirred more and she covered herself with the cloak with a quickened heartbeat and walked to the door quickly. Just before she left, she heard a soft, breathy call of her name-last name, to be precise, _"Granger."_

She did not know what to think of it.

* * *

><p>Sixth year<p>

She heard about him and Harry dueling in the bathroom._ Good God, do they have to duel everywhere?_ The bathroom was possibly the most hilarious place to duel. Can you imagine how it would sound like?

_Malfoy and Harry dueled in the bathroom. They pulled their wands out— _Oh Merlin! Hermione reddened. She was never good at attempting a humorous explanation and Gods did that sounded wrong.

Hermione couldn't believe she was doing this again. She was visiting Draco Malfoy. Again.

This time, it was when everybody was still in the Great Hall, feasting on the exquisite dinner.

He was awake when she walked in. His head snapped to hers and she felt her cheeks heat up. "What do you want?" He snarled in annoyance. Hermione did not reply.

Instead, she walked towards him and sat down on the chair beside his bed. His narrowed eyes followed her. "What do you want?" He repeated, this time, with curiosity.

"I know you visited me in my second year," she blurted out. Then, she reddened as his eyes went wide. "It was late at night, but I wasn't asleep. It wasn't comfortable sleeping like that. I didn't think you mean to call me Mudblood since then."

"Look, I don't know why I came here-"

"I heard you, in third year…I'm a light sleeper." He replied with a sigh.

"Oh-" Hermione was startled. She was so sure he was sleeping. Despite that short and almost friendly conversation, the tension between them was still high. But Hermione stayed. She sat there watching him. He laid there looking up at the ceiling.

After a long while, Hermione spoke up, "Have you ever wondered if we could possibly be friends?"

"What?" She could hear form his voice that his eyebrows raised. "Friends? Potter and Weasley'd throw a fit. Friends with a Death Eater," he scoffed.

"So you are?" She asked in a shaky voice. "Can I—Will you—Can I see it?"

He turned his head towards her then. It was only then did she realise how pale he was and how sickly looking he was. His eyes were sunken and dark circles where under his eyes. He's thinner too, compared to the star of the year. "What—what did he want you to do?"

He laughed bitterly. "I'm not about to tell you." She realised he looked exhausted. She stood up and walked to his left. As she reached forward to touch his sleeve, he flinched away from her, as if embarrassed. Though, it could also be because she's a Mudblood and he didn't want to be contaminated, but then he whispered, "I didn't want it. He threatened to kill my family."

She looked at him briefly before pulling his sleeves up. Onto contrary, she did not feel disgusted or frightened. Hermione traced the mark and his fist clenched.

She looked at him. "I always thought that maybe we could've been friends."

"In another dimension, probably." He said dully. She squeezed his arm and smiled weakly.

Both of their heads turned towards the door, where two voices were talking.

"I'll see you around?" Hermione asked.

"Alright," he smirked slightly.

_Maybe they could be acquaintances._

* * *

><p><em>Malfoy Manor<em>

This time round, they weren't in the Infirmary.

It was late at night, midnight, most likely. Aunt Bella had just retired to her chamber after hours of torturing Granger. He snuck down, making sure he wasn't seen, and went to the drawing room, where she was.

"Granger?"_ Merlin, this is 2__nd__ year all over again._ "Granger?"

"M-m-malfoy?" Her voice was hoarse and weak. It should be, after hours of screaming and crying. "That you?"

Wordlessly, he scurried over to her and conjured a cup of water. She was a crumple of mess. Her hair was scattered all over the ground, blood seeped through the cuts where Bellatrix slit her skin.

He healed some of the deeper wounds and fed her some water.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't—I didn't tell them."

"My face was all over the Prophet." She sighed. "It's more likely they'd recognise me without your help. Did you-?"

"I tried calling for Dobby," he shook his head. "He wouldn't trust me."

"Try again." She coughed. "He's the only hope for us to get out of here—You will come with us…right?"

He looked down at the floor.

"Malfoy?" She sounded hurt. "You will, won't you?"

"I can't," he whispered. "My parents—they'll—"

"Please!" She pleaded. "Come with-"

_Clunk._ Their conversation was hushed as their eyes turned to look at the source. His quill had fallen off the desk. By now, most of the Death Eaters were alert. The lights were slowly coming back on.

"Go—" she whispered urgently. "Go quickly. Don't let them see you! Draco, please come with us."

That was the first time she called him by his given name to his face. Both of them were dumbstruck for a while.

_Maybe they were more than just acquaintances._

* * *

><p><em>After the war<em>

Hermione looked around for a mop of blond hair. She sincerely hoped that he's still alive, in some way. She saw him then, with his parents. They looked out of place and uncomfortable. She'd found out later on that they felt like they didn't belong there.

She marched towards the younger blond and engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug, causing him to stagger back a few steps. "Thank Merlin." She sighed before she heard a painful hiss coming out from his mouth.

She jumped back from him and started to look around his form, trying to see where he's hurt. She had completely forgotten that his parents where there. "Where are you hurt? Tell me."

He didn't reply. She thwacked him on the head and furiously demanded him to tell her. He pointed at his ripped up pants that covered up a bruise and a broken ankle.

"Oh," she reddened when she realized she had just made it worse and bent down to heal his broken ankle.

When she was done, she came back up and looked at his dirty face and blood stained hair. Tears brimmed around her eyes and she, again, engulfed him in a hug.

"Won't Weasley kill me?" He asked hoarsely as he returned the embrace.

"Why would he?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

"Lover boy's glaring at me right now." He replied with amusement.

"I don't love him like that." She reddened as she pulled back. She saw a few Aurors coming their way and she looked confusedly at them.

"They're taking us to Azkaban." He sighed and she whirled around to look at him.

"Bu-but you helped us, you told us all the locations and such!" She protested. "They know that."

He shrugged. "Go back to Potter and Weaselbee, they'll probably know much more."

She looked doubtfully at him before pecking his cheek and returning to his friends.

_Were they friends now?_

* * *

><p><em>A few years later<em>

"Is this going to be a routine or something? I swear I've become a frequent visitor to St. Mungos." He asked light-heartedly as he entered her St Mungos room. She laughed softly and winced slightly as she rubbed her chest. "How was my Uncle Rudolphus?"

"Horrible, but he was a good dueler." She grimaced. "Harry and Ron brought him to Azkaban."

"What did he do?"

"He tried to puncture my lungs."

"Ah." Draco nodded. He was spared from Azkaban after Hermione and Harry did their speech at his trial. It was all Gryffindor talk—how he risked his life to save them, how he turned spy and told them everything they needed to know. "Mother wanted to know if you're well, like always" Hermione smiled softly.

Narcissa Malfoy was only under house arrest. For the rest of her life, but it was better than her husband's fate, which was to receive the Kiss for he had committed and was involved in uncountable muggle tortures and muggle killings. Surprisingly, she wanted to know Hermione. Though sometimes, the blood prejudice comment will slip, the commonness of it had caused Hermione to ignore it and go on as if nothing happened.

"You will tell her I'm fine, right?"

"No, I'm telling her that you stubbornly duelled with my uncle even after she told you not to." He smirked and took a seat on her bed. "How's Weasley and Potter taking all this?"

"Hmm?"

"Their best friend's hurt. They're not angry or the least bit mad at your stubbornness?" He raised an eyebrow.

"They're livid, yes, called me an idiot for not listening to you. Both he and Harry thought I was dead when they brought me here."

"Serves you right." He sniffed and smirked. "When are you released?"

"Tomorrow, most likely."

"Right," he raised an eyebrow. "Mother wants you over for tea. You better prepare yourself for some tough lecture."

Hermione chuckled lightly and beckoned him forward. When he was close enough, she pulled him pulled and kissed him. "Weren't you the least bit worried?"

"It came after I mentally snarled at you for being a dim-witted Auror who never listens." He smirked and kissed her again. "When you feel better and after you've visited mother, Mr and Mrs. Weasley would like to see you and then I'm pretty sure Ginny Potter too."

"Oh God," she groaned. "Are they all going to lecture me?"

"I'd think so yes." He smirked and sat up. "Who told you to be so stupid as to duel with my uncle alone?"

She rolled her eyes. "Leave it."

"Honestly, if I see you in St. Mungos again, I'm going to force you to quit being an Auror."

* * *

><p>AN: Good God, I don't know where this came from. It sounded good in my head… but when I wrote it down… I'm not so sure anymore…

Tell me what you think!

Until next time,  
>hardly insane<p> 


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